Whitewater Rafting

The Appalachian Mountains are some of the most beautiful mountains I have ever seen. During the summer the trees dress the mountains in deep, rich shades of green. In the fall, those wonderfully intense shades of green give way to the vivid colors of fall: golden yellows, burnt oranges, and rusty reds. I grew up in those wild, wonderful mountains. I know them well, and they are what I call "back home."

I know the names of the rivers running through those mountains. I have been canoing on the Coal, Kanawha River, and Elk River. I have spent summers tubing or vacationing on or around the Gauley River and the New River. These rivers are a welcome relief to the summer heat and humidity that are trapped in the mountain valleys of the state.

In the wintertime, people come to West Viriginia to snow ski or snowboard, but during the other seasons, it is the rivers that draw the crowds. On the west side of the Appalachian Mountains, the Gauley and New Rivers come together to form the Kanawha River. Both the Gauley and the New Rivers provide ample water sport opportunities, and one of the most popular water activities is white water rafting.

Saturday, I was on the New River enjoying the day. It was a perfect day to go down the river - mostly sunny, warm but not hot, slight breeze, and a nicely flowing river. We were in for a variety of white water challenges. There was one Class V rapid on our course, a few Class IV, and the rest Class III or lower.

While I will enjoy reliving the memories of the day, it is the bits of time I spent in reflection during the trip that I will treasure. I thought about all the wonderful people back home that were such an important part of my life. I thought about my childhood home, our dogs, our gardens, the hills I would run through barefooted, the small game my father would bring home for dinner every fall, the deer that would eat corn out of our gardens, and the small family church we attened. That's my "back home."

It felt good to be back home, to belong. I belonged at that time and that place, and it felt good. Sometimes, I don't feel like I belong. I think that is an important feeling, to feel out of place or that we don't belong. When we feel we don't belong, we are uncomfortable. We can do two things with that feeling. We can walk away, feeling rejected or out of sorts, or we can work through those feelings of not belonging and make an effort to belong.

It isn't always an easy or fast process, but belonging takes effort on my part. The down side is that occasionally, even with immense amounts of effort, you never belong. That sort of rejection is difficult to swallow. I have no words of wisdom or "secret" formula to help with rejection. I only know that I look to my Father in those times. He was the "stone the builders rejected." I belong to the Father. He has summoned me by name, and I am His.

For about four hours yesterday, I belonged in a raft of 10 people, most of whom were strangers. We enjoyed our time together running the rapids, and we were awed and entertained by the knowledge and the wit of our guide. We swam in the cool, deep river pools. The mountains hugged the river on either side, adding to the drama of the experience. It was a day well-spent.

Living and Learning,

Beth